Torg, Friend of Men
by T0NAN
Summary: Sent on a mission to eliminate Gandalf the Grey, Torg scoured Middle-Earth for ten years, finally finding the old wizard in Bree. Sneaking into Gandalf's carriage, he planned to assassinate him. Upon leaving, Torg attempted to take Gandalf's life, but was thwarted by the wizard, who noticed he was different. Upon removing Sauron's grasp on Torg's mind, Torg decides to join Gandalf.
1. Chapter 1

I stood silently in wait, my eyes calmly looking about. I was at the foot of Barad-dûr, along with my followers and many other high-ranking orcs. To my followers and even some of the other high-ranking orcs, I was top brass, right-hand orc to the Dark Lord, but to Sauron, I was just a pawn waiting to be thrown aside in this long game of chess. I knew it, but the others didn't. It was a… _strange_ feeling, really. I didn't know why I stayed in wait for the Dark Lord who didn't give a rat's ass about his soldiers or his generals. Oh wait, yes, I did… that bastard Sauron had control over our minds, to where we had no choice but to follow his every whim. It was disgusting what he did to my people, but no one questioned him. At least, no one I knew of.

As soon as I finished my thoughts, the large black gates that were the entrance of Barad-dûr opened, and out came a massive humanoid form. It was Sauron, and he was dressed head-to-toe in jagged metal armor. No skin could be seen, and short metal spikes jutted out from his spaulders and vambraces, his helmet having spikes that were vertical yet shortened around the sides, but slowly grew longer near the line of symmetry. He carried his signature mace, or what the orcs said was his signature weapon. No one truly knew what it was, since we only lived an average three hundred to four hundred years. A tattered black cape laid atop his shoulders and fell almost to the bottom of his heels, stopping just above the ground. The most notable trait of all was the color of his armor; it was either stained black or corrupted, most likely the latter.

His massive black metal boots shook even the hardened floor, and as he approached, I looked behind me; thousands upon thousands of orcs all stood in awe of the Dark Lord, almost filling up the entirety of bridge that led to Barad-dûr. They all trusted him, even though he wasn't to be trusted. They were naïve, but me? I knew what hid behind that mask, and it frightened me to the core.

He stopped in front of me, and I kneeled, lowering my head in a submissive gesture. I could see the armor around his feet, and I could only imagine how hard it would be to strike him down.

"Rise, Torg." He said, his voice sounding faint yet solid, as though he was lying on his death bed. He lengthened his words, too. I arose, not daring to gaze into the black pits of his helm.

"What is it you require of me, Master?" I asked, keeping my gaze locked onto the ground.

"Find the Grey Wizard… and kill him." He ordered, his voice carrying a hint of malice that I couldn't tell whether it was for the Grey Wizard, or for me.

"Yes, Master. It will be done." I replied, although I knew exactly what this was; a suicide mission. No orc could defeat a wizard alone, yet Sauron knew this. I bit my lip, holding my tongue as I turned on my heel and walked across the bridge. It took about an hour before I finally reached the hellscape that was Gorgoroth, and upon reaching it I stomped and began cursing, knowing that he might as well have just killed me on the spot rather than send me on this mission. I wasn't on the best of terms with the Dark Lord, as I was more of an "independent" thinker. I use that term loosely, since I still followed orders, but I carried what was more of a logical way of thinking than the common orc. If that wasn't the reason that he sent me and me alone on this impossible mission, then I didn't know why.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my curved nose, "That bloody bastard…"

* * *

**10 Years Later**

I stalked through the woods of the Midgewater Marshes, following close behind a carriage that the old wizard sat upon as it carried him down the path. According to signs that he recently passed, I was able to see that he was on his way to a place called "Bree". It had been a long time since I heard from Sauron, and I just had to assume that I was out of his reach and, hopefully, sight. And this was the first time I've ever actually seen the wizard during my search, as it was apparently rare for him to just wander about.

Eventually the wizard reached the town, and casually entered, whilst I watched it cautiously from a watery ditch. There was no way for me to walk right in, they'd kill me on sight, but if since it is dark… maybe I could sneak in.

Pulling myself out of the ditch I was hiding in, I donned a cloak that covered my head and tattered clothing, making sure to keep a safe distance away from every person I saw. I would occasionally bump into a person since it was dark even with the torches, but I would just pretend to be a man who had a bit too much to drink. I eventually caught back up to the wizard, ducking behind an alleyway as I watched him enter a building with a sign labeled, "Prancing Pony". Once I was certain that he wasn't going to come back out to grab something he may have left behind, I quickly ran up to the carriage and hopped into the back, covering myself with the cloak I was wearing. I hoped that I blended in well. Now all I had to do was wait.

Minutes passed, before eventually I heard the old wizard speaking following the creaking of a door, "Well, Thorin, I will notify you once I've found our burglar."

Another voice chimed in, "Gandalf, you better choose right, because I can't risk having a liability when it comes to searching for the…" the voice dropped to a low whisper that I could barely hear, "…_Arkenstone._"

"Yes, well, I have an eye for these sorts of things, and I know the perfect race for the job." He replied, and once he said his goodbyes to this 'Thorin', he hopped onto the carriage and rode off. I patiently listened for the sounds of the town to die out, and once they had, I slowly removed the cloak and pulled out my dagger without making a sound, the heavy rain droplets pelting the ground with a loud _splat_. I slowly arose, inching toward him as he silently whistled a tune, readying my dagger, the blade hovering just over his shoulder.

Then, without warning, the old wizard stopped the carriage abruptly, throwing me off balance as he quickly spun around and knocked the dagger out of my hand with his staff. Once I balanced myself, I glared at him and growled, backing up as he drew his blade with light exuding from the staff he had just disarmed me with. He squinted at me, keeping his weapon at the ready, "An orc this far from Mordor?" He asked rhetorically, "An assassin, no less." He chuckled, "Well, it seems your plot to kill me has failed, my friend." I kept silent, glaring at him. He looked at me with interest, "It seems… odd that you haven't attacked again yet, and even odder that you haven't ran away." He leaned in, his eyes seemingly looking through mine, "Sauron's grip on your mind is diminishing…" He chuckled again, "I do say, this would be the first time in my lifetime that I've seen this or tried this, but…" He paused, and without a second thought brought his staff to my forehead, and my eyes widened as a surge of power flowed through me and a roar of agony escaped my mind. My eyes rolled back into my head, darkness taking me.

* * *

I awoke, my eyes fluttering as I rubbed the rainwater out of my eyes. The sound of hooves hitting gravel and a wheel following close behind told me that I was still in the carriage, yet… I wasn't dead. I sat up, groaning as pain weaved its way into my head.

"Finally awake?" A voice asked with a chuckle, and turning I saw Gandalf sitting on the carriage, a small smile on his face. I was stunned, and I stood up, looking around. It was daybreak, I could tell, the rain was still falling yet I could tell that it was to disperse soon.

I stood silently for a moment, before realizing I no longer had the urge to kill Gandalf… and that I was referring to him _as _Gandalf instead of just 'Old wizard' or 'Grey wizard' in my mind. I turned my gaze to the wizard, one that wasn't of hate or contempt, but curiosity. "What… what have you done to me?"

"Oh, me?" He asked rhetorically, looking at me, "Nothing really, just cut Sauron's power from your mind, freeing you from him." The wizard turned back to the road, shrugging, "It wasn't too difficult, since his grip on you was slipping either way." He looked back at me again, a toothy grin on his face, "I just sped up the process."

I didn't say a word, instead sitting back down and looking at my muddy and wrinkled hands. "Am I truly free?" I asked the wizard without looking at him, "How do I know this isn't some trick?"

The wizard reached into a pocket in his robes, pulling something out and tossing it onto my lap. It was my dagger, my name carved into the blade in black speech. "If you wish to finish your mission, dear friend, your tool is there." I glanced up at the wizard, his eyes facing forward with a sort of confidence in his choices. I gripped the dagger in my hands, standing up. As I was about to make my move, I stopped, looking down at the dagger, resting it in my left palm. I thought deeply on the choice of killing the wizard, the one who freed me. I looked beyond my dagger at the floor of the carriage, my vision blurring as I began to think even harder.

Biting my lip, slid the dagger back into its sheath on my boot. "Where are we heading?" I asked, my pride keeping me from thanking the wizard for his deed.

"We?" He asked curiously.

"Yes, we." I replied, "I have to repay you for freeing me somehow." He laughed heartily, wiping a tear from his eye. I gave him a curious glance, "What's so funny?"

"I expected you to leave and never see me again! But to join me? Ha!" He paused for a moment, letting his laugh die down. Once he collected himself, he looked back at me before scooting over on his carriage, "Have a seat next to me, my friend."

I gazed at him cautiously but crawled over to the front of the carriage, sitting next to him. "So, where are we going?"

"A place called Hobbiton, to the house of one Bilbo Baggins." He replied, the carriage ride seemingly taking hours, during which I had asked a question.

"Are you at all… bothered by my appearance?" I asked cautiously, glancing over to Gandalf. "In any way at all?"

He looked at me, eyeing me from head to toe, "Not particularly, no… I can't say that I've ever been bothered by the appearances of others, although…" he looked at my face, "You should probably clean yourself up a bit. We're going to be in a place where they don't get many visitors, so you should make a good first impression." He looked about, stopping the carriage. "There!" He said, raising a finger that pointed to a nearby pond. "Go ahead and bathe there, I'll wait here while you do so."

I looked at him with a puzzled expression, "Why?"

He rolled his eyes, "Because I just said you must make a good first impression on these Hobbits, now go wash up!" He shooed me off the carriage and toward the lake.

As I was about to head down the slope that lead to the lake, Gandalf called to me, "Oh, and here!" I turned to him, just in time to catch some folded clothes and a towel, "I bought these while you were still asleep, took a few measurements too. They should fit well enough!" I nodded to him in thanks, carefully making my way down the slope as to not fall and dirty the clean clothes.

Upon reaching the pond, I found a nice clean spot to set the clothes down on and removed my upper-body armor, glancing up at Gandalf who was reading a book, his back turned to me. Looking down at my body, I could see scars that cut deep into my dirt-covered green skin, each mark causing me cringe at the sight. If I was around other orcs, revealing myself wouldn't have been embarrassing, yet… this was a human I had to assume had few scars. I had also notice that I had a bit more muscle, much more than this wizard appeared to have, but I paid it no mind. I quickly removed the rest of my armor and dirtied loin cloth, gently dipping a toe into the water. It was comfortably warm, yet comfortably cool. I slowly lowered myself in, the water reaching my chest at its deepest point. I carefully rubbed water onto my body, making sure to remove as much dirt as possible. I would occasionally dunk my head into the water to try and clean my bald head. I brought a handful of water up to my face, splashing on my features and rubbing deeply, dunk my head, then repeat.

Eventually I came out of the water, grabbing the towel and quickly drying myself off. I didn't know how to properly tie it around my waist like I saw the other orcs do with their dirty rags back in Mordor, so I just covered the main part of my body that I didn't want anyone to see. I glanced at the clothes, picking up the clean loin cloth and quickly sliding it on, following with the pants he had for me. I picked them up and looked them over; they were a light brown color, like that of a cow's hide. I shrugged, and slid them on, surprised at how well it fit. As uncomfortable as it made me to think of the wizard measuring _almost_ every part of me, I'm certainly glad that he picked out well-fitting clothing. I then picked up the shirt and put it on, noticing the strings that were near the neck. I didn't bother with them, instead grabbing the hooded cloak Gandalf acquired for me and draping it over my shoulders, tying the string in a knot. Finally came the shoes, which were black, and by Sauron's balls were they comfortable. The cobbler must've made them in expectance of it being a gift! Never had I felt such comfort on my being as now.

Gleefully, I made my way back up the slope, my dirtied armor and clothes tucked under my arm. "Wizard, I have never felt such comfort in my lifetime."

Gandalf chuckled, "Yes, well, those are just everyday shoes." As I was about to speak again, he waved me off, "Just throw your items in the back of the carriage and we'll have them cleaned in Hobbiton." Nodding, I did just as he said, throwing the clothing in the back of the carriage, hopping up next to him.

Once we were back on the road, he looked me over, "Looking much cleaner now, my friend."

I nodded, "Yes, I also feel much better than before." I nudged his shoulder, catching his attention, "Thank you for the clothes, Gandalf. I am truly grateful."

"Anything for a friend." He replied, chuckling for a moment as a small smile appeared on his lips.


	2. Chapter 2

It had taken a few days to reach Hobbiton, since Gandalf had stopped many times to sleep and eat an odd piece of bread wrapped in leaves. Upon my asking of what it was, he simply told me that it was called Waybread in Common Tongue. I nodded along, and eventually the answer was pushed away from my mind. Upon reaching Hobbiton, Gandalf quickly asked about, while I had to hide my face a bit from the Hobbits as to not frighten them. Well, I didn't _have _to, it's just that I didn't _want _to frighten them. They seemed like kind folk, even though they were short. Their height, at the tallest, reached just above my waist.

Once Gandalf was done asking about this 'Bilbo Baggins', he hopped on the carriage and told me that we were going to have to stay there for a few days. And so, we did. Although we just slept under a tree most of the time and I was under Gandalf's close watch, occasionally I would stray away from the grey wizard during the day, familiarize myself with a few of the sights, then return an hour or so later.

But the days eventually began ticking by, and Gandalf finally returned to the home of Bilbo Baggins one morning. He told me to stay behind as to not frighten the little hobbit however, and I begrudgingly agreed. It wasn't very often that I was told not to do something, and if it were any other man I wouldn't have agreed, but I owed Gandalf my life and freedom, so I had to trust him.

I watched from a bit of a ways away, atop a large tree, not far enough to not see clearly, but not close enough to be seen. This little _Bilbo_ was sitting outside of his house on a wooden bench with a smoking pipe in his hand. It was then that he blew a large "O" of smoke into the air, a smile appearing on his features as he closed his eyes. Not a few seconds after, Gandalf walked in front of him, turning the smoke into a little gas butterfly that flew gently back into his face.

His eyes slowly opening, he looked about before his eyes settled on Gandalf. He then awkwardly looked about, before turning back to Gandalf greeting, "Good morning."

"What do you mean?" Asked the wizard, "Do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?" He gently gripped both hands on his staff at this point. Bilbo paused for a moment, pipe in mouth yet his mouth was agape trying to formulate a response. Gandalf continued, "Or perhaps you mean to say that you do feel good on this particular morning? Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

Bilbo had taken the pipe out of his mouth at this point, looking at Gandalf with a confused look. A few seconds of silence passed before he responded, "All of them at once, I suppose."

Gandalf looked at Bilbo questioningly with a "Hmm…"

Bilbo looked at him for but a moment, slowly rotated his body as if he was going to leave, then turned back to the wizard with a quick, "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen." Gandalf replied, cocking his head to the side. Another moment of silence passed until the old wizard began to speak again, "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." He finished with raised eyebrows, an expectant look on his face.

Bilbo, the same confused expression, replied, "An adventure-?" He rotated his head a bit as to bring the right answer out. "Now I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures." He finished, rising from his seated position. "Nasty, disturbing," He looked at Gandalf, "Uncomfortable thing." He reached over his mailbox, opened it, pulled out some mail, and close it again. "Make you late for dinner." He chuckled as he looked at his mail, murmuring to himself before saying, "Whelp, uh, good morning!" He then turned around and began walking away. I rolled my eyes; whatever adventure Gandalf had planned, it wasn't going to be with this cowardly thing.

Gandalf, however, had other ideas, "To think that I should've lived to be 'goodmorninged' by Belladonna Took's son, as if I were selling buttons at the door."

A small glint of curiosity passed Bilbo's face as he stopped and looked back at Gandalf, "Beg your pardon?"

"You've changed," replied Gandalf, "and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

"I'm sorry do I know you?"

"Well you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it." With his chest puffed out, he stated, "I'm Gandalf, and Gandalf means…" He paused, looking for better words, "…_me_." Nice, Gandalf, real smooth.

I had enough of watching those two converse, and so I began my slow descent down the tree, being sure as to not step on any weak branches. Of course, as fate would have it, even the large branches were weak, and when my foot landed on what I thought was a solid branch, it took only a second before I heard it crack as my full weight fell upon it. My eyes widened as I fell, a squeal of terror escaping my lips before landing hard on my back. I laid there quietly for a moment, not wanting to stand and accept the embarrassment of being stared at. But I had to.

Standing up jubilantly, I dusted myself off, looking about to see if anyone saw me fall. Of course, Gandalf did, along with that little hobbit Bilbo. Waving nonchalantly, I slowly turned away from them as I felt my cheeks flush. "How embarrassing…" I whispered to myself as I returned to the carriage.

A few minutes later, Gandalf returned to the carriage, and I greeted him with a smile, "Ah, so how was it?"

He chuckled, "My viewing of you falling or my conversation with Bilbo?"

I rolled my eyes, "Both, I suppose."

"Well, the fall certainly aroused a laugh out of me, not so much for Bilbo however." He then nodded his head towards the hobbit's house, "And I've marked his house for tonight's gathering."

"Gathering? What gathering?" I asked.

"Well, for the _adventure_, of course!" He replied happily.

"You know, you didn't really clear that up with me at all on our way here. What exactly _is _this adventure and where are we adventuring to?"

"Ah, yes, well, um… how should I put this?" He rested his staff against the carriage, clapping his hands together, "We, as in Bilbo, you and I, are going to join thirteen dwarves on a quest to retake Erebor from a dragon."

I paused for what felt like a minute, my mouth agape. A bloody _dragon_?! What the hell is Gandalf thinking?! And with _dwarves_ no less! "You want you and Bilbo, including me, an _orc_, to quest with _dwarves_ to retake the one Lonely Mountain from a goddamned _dragon_?!"

"Please, my friend, caution in your words."

"Yes, well, let me remind you that orcs and dwarves don't exactly have a good relationship like wizards and hobbits." I put a hand on my hip, pinching my nose, "They'll kill me, Gandalf! They'll gut me like a fish when they see who I am!"

This caused Gandalf to chuckle, "Trust me, Torg, no one's going to gut you."

"And how do you know that? You're a human wizard! I'm the one who's _going _to be gutted!"

"Because, Torg, I know who we're traveling with and I have his trust." I calmed down for a moment as Gandalf continued, "As long as I trust you, he'll trust you."

"And just who is leading this party?" I asked, sending a glare at the hobbit's home.

He smiled, "One Thorin Oakenshield."

* * *

**12 Hours Later**

Gandalf and I approached the house, seeing what I could count was eight dwarves all trying to push the door down. Just as we reached them, the door was opened and they all fell in. I stiffed a chuckle, and Gandalf gently tapped my shoulder with his elbow. The old wizard then peeked in, seeing Bilbo and smiling.

Bilbo, however, frowned, "Gandalf…"

Minutes later, Gandalf and I simply watched as the little hobbit was trying to gain control of the dwarves. It was extremely difficult not to laugh at all, but somehow Gandalf kept me from doing so. I mean, I even saw a dwarf with an axe in between his head walking about! What's funnier than that?

"Torg, help me please." Gandalf requested, handing me a stack of plates. "Lay those out nicely along the table." Nodding, I did just that, trying my best to remain a safe distance away from the other dwarves. Plate after plate I laid out onto the table while Gandalf laid out the eating utensils like a fork and knife.

Said wizard was approached by a dwarf with several braids in his hair, who asked, "Excuse me, Mr. Gandalf, can I tempt you with a nice cup of chamomile tea?"'

"Oh, no thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me, I think." He glanced at me, "My friend, however, might like some."

Without a second thought, the dwarf called 'Dori' approached me, handing me a cup of this 'tea'. "Drink up, sir. I assure you, it is delicious." I sent a quick glare at Gandalf but nodded to Dori. Turning around so that no one could see me, I pulled down my cloth mask a little as I raised the cup to my lips, the fragrance smelling surprisingly delicious. The taste, too, was quite delicious; light, airy, and it had a very… attractive taste.

Once I finished the entire cup, I nodded to Dori in thanks, returning to Gandalf's side. "Never do that again." I stated with a grumble, glancing up at him. Now that I thought about it, my height barely reached up to his shoulders. I was short compared to Gandalf.

He chuckled, "I'll try." He was suddenly approached by the dwarf with the axe located in his skull, who spoke in a tongue I couldn't quite understand. Gandalf understood it quite well, actually, "Yes, you are quite right, Bifur." He looked about, "We appear to be one dwarf short."

A tall and sturdy dwarf, who I gathered was Dwalin, joined in, "He is late, is all. He travelled North to a meeting of our kin. He will come."

Dori then came up behind the old wizard, "Mr. Gandalf?" The wizard turned around, and Dori raised a glass of red wine up to said wizard, "A little glass of red wine, as requested. It's, eh, got a fruity bouquet." What a 'bouquet' was, I didn't know, and I didn't even care for it.

Shortly after, they all sat down at the table, eating the food. I remained a safe distance away in the hall as I watched Bilbo try to make sense of it all. Upon turning around, Bilbo froze, which piqued my interest. Peering at what he was looking at, I saw that his entire pantry was emptied of all foods. I chuckled quietly, not catching his attention.

Once the dwarves were finished with their food, Bilbo quickly followed them about, taking a crochet from one of them who obviously didn't know what a crochet was, unless it was the sport.

Gandalf approached, "My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" I followed close behind Gandalf.

Bilbo looked incredulously at Gandalf as though the wizard had a few screws loose, "What's the matter?! I'm surrounded by dwarves! What are they doing here?!"

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them." Gandalf replied, a smile on his face.

Bilbo frowned, "I don't want to get used to them!" He said through clenched teeth as he led Gandalf through the house to point out evidence, "The state of my kitchen! There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going to tell you what they've done in the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

A dwarf approached Bilbo from a side room as I leaned against the wall opposite of Gandalf, "Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

"Here you go, Ori, give it to me." Said a blonde dwarf who grabbed the plate, throwing it to another dwarf just behind Gandalf, whom had to move out of the way so he wasn't hit. I pulled Gandalf up against the wall I was leaning against, making sure he didn't get hurt.

The dwarf who caught the plate then threw it into the room Gandalf and I had just exited from with great skill. I was impressed, to say the least.

"Excuse me!" Shouted Bilbo in defiance, That's my mother's West Farthing crockery, it's over a hundred years old!" Shortly after, I heard the dwarves drumming rhythmically on the table with what sounded like their fists. "And can-can you not do that?! You'll blunt them!"

"Ooh, d'hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" A voice said from the kitchen, and soon the dwarves erupted into a singing a song that I found so annoying that I had to cover my own ears. I could see that Gandalf was laughing along with the dwarves, and once they finished, I opened my eyes and saw that everyone had went to the kitchen, even Mr. Baggins.

I didn't bother joining them, as I knew Gandalf would just move to a different spot again. I didn't really like the dwarves that much, but they had some interesting skills, such as their love for food and rhythmic songs that they can make up on the fly.

Just as I was thinking about the dwarves, a loud, thunderous knocking came from the door, silencing those in the home. My pointed ears raised, I strained to hear what was outside, but all I heard was Gandalf say, "He is here."

The wizard slowly left the kitchen, pulling the door open to reveal a very bold-looking dwarf, who's long black and grey hair and well-kept beard gave him a look that demanded respect. He was looking off into the distance before he turned to Gandalf with a small smile, "Gandalf." He began to step inside the home, "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice." I eyed the man up and down as he removed his cloak, revealing furred clothing and armor that he wore casually. "Wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

Bilbo interjected, "Mark?" There's no mark on that door. It was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark; I put it there myself." Corrected Gandalf, "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo approached the regal-looking dwarf, who greeted him, "So, this is the hobbit?" He walked past Bilbo, "Tell me Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

I took this moment to speak to Gandalf, pulling him aside, "So, I was wondering if I should…" I rotated my wrists a bit, "…you know, introduce _myself_ to these dwarves before they find out later when you might _not _be here?"

Gandalf nodded silently, "Yes, that would be best, but let us wait for them to finish their business with one another first." I nodded in agreement, watching Thorin walk into the dining room to eat a warm meal. I was nervous, to say the least; he was a dwarf and I was an orc. I could only pray that he didn't cut me down the moment I reveal myself.

I then noticed that, again, they'd all left me. I could hear them in the dining room and so I cautiously made my way over to them. As I entered, I saw Gandalf lay a map on the table, a tall mountain labeled, "The Lonely Mountain" with a drawing of a dragon flying above it, spewing flames.

I completely drowned out the sounds of the dwarves conversing as I narrowed my eyes upon the dragon. I knew of it, I knew of the dragon's hoard, and I knew of the dragon himself. Sauron had been trying to take control of the dragon, even trying to get as close as possible by calling himself 'The Necromancer' and stationing himself at Dol Guldur. It was folly, no one could control a dragon, let alone kill one.

Glancing up from the map, I saw Thorin staring at me with curiosity. I averted my eyes, instead looking up at Gandalf who gave me a small nod. I nodded back, turning on my heel and heading outside of Bilbo's home. It had been about an hour or so that I waited, and eventually the dwarves came out of the house one by one, probably returning to their camp or Bree.

Then the last dwarf, Thorin, exited the home, closing the door behind him. "Thorin Oakenshield." I greeted, catching his attention.

He turned to me, eyeing me cautiously, "Do I know you?"

I shook my head, "No, but Gandalf certainly does." I walked up to him, practically towering over him as I stretched out a hand, "Torg, at your service." It was then that I saw his eyes fall upon my hand, which wasn't covered by any cloth whatsoever. I looked to make sure that the other dwarves had left, then returned my gaze back to him.

His eyes widened, and he looked back up at me with a glare, "Remove your mask."

"What?" I asked nervously, slowly returning my hand to my side.

"I said," He slowly drew his sword, "Remove." He stepped closer to me as I backed up, "Your." Step, "Mask." I was against the wall of the hobbit home, and his sword was at my chest.

Slowly, I raised my hand and pulled the cloth mask off my face, revealing my orcish heritage. His eyes widened, and I rolled mine, "Come on, what'd you expect?"

He glared at me, "Beast, monster, what are you doing here?!"

I gently rested a hand on his blade, "I'm not here to cause trouble."

He brought the blade's tip to my chest, "Answer my question, beast."

I sighed, "I owe Gandalf my life, and in return he granted me his friendship." I rested my hand on his blade again, "I've decided to join him on this journey to Erebor, for his protection and my own."

"He's not wrong, Thorin." A familiar voice added, and out came Gandalf, a smile on his face, "I trust this orc, almost as much as I trust Bilbo." A few tense moments of silence fell upon us as we waited to see what Thorin's next move would be. Sweat began dripping down my forehead as my heart pounded in my chest, my hands trembling.

Thorin sighed, and with a disgruntled, "_Fine_." He sheathed his sword, turning on his heel and making his way down the path without a word spoken.

Once he was out of sight, I turned to Gandalf with a relieved sigh, "That could've gone much better."

Gandalf nodded in agreement, "Yes, definitely."

"So," I decided to change the subject, "What of the hobbit?"

"Oh, he's just mulling it over. He'll join, undoubtedly, but it'll take a while for him to travel with us."

"And why's that?" I asked.

"He's a Baggins, that's why."


End file.
